deep v-cut that I'd normally only wear if it was really hot out. Back in the kitchen, I pour two cups of coffee and walk across the lawn to the fence, hoping pool boy is indeed trimming the magnolia tree.
I climb through the hole in the fence, sloshing hot coffee over my bare leg, but at least I don't spill it all over my dress. Kate's high-pitched laugh echoes from the pool, but the hedge from here to the magnolia tree is so thick she shouldn't be able to see me.
The shrubbery hides me from the pool boy too. He's wearing a pair of faded jeans now and no shirt. The sunlight makes his back glisten, and all I really want to do is run my hand down his back, feeling those hard muscles. That desire surprises me. I'm not usually very forward with guys and definitely prefer them to take the lead. He's got one of those electric cutters going, so he doesn't hear me approach.
I clear my throat once I reach him. "Excuse me."
The saw sputters, and the noise dies out. He turns toward me, surprise evident in the way his face hovers between a smile and a frown. I wouldn't mind touching his lips either.
"I thought you might like some coffee," I say, holding one of the cups toward him, sloshing more of it across my arm in the process.
He just stares at me like he can't figure out what I'm doing there.
"Thank you for saving me," I explain, belatedly adding, "or, you know, trying to."
He puts the saw down, wipes sweat off his face with the back of his hand, and finally takes the coffee.
"I put milk and sugar in. I don't know how you like it," I say rather stupidly.
His eyes, the color of a cloudless blue sky now with just a hint of sunlight dip down to the v of my dress. With the push-up I'm wearing, the dress reveals more than it hides.
"Thanks. I like milk and sugar just fine."
His gaze warms me again, heat shooting through my stomach. Somehow, I don't think he's really talking about the milk and sugar.
What I'm feeling must be showing on my face because he chuckles a little and gulps down the coffee.
"Thank you, Miss...?" he says, holding the empty cup toward me.
"Gail," I manage.
"Miss Gail," he says and chuckles again.
"No, just Gail," I explain too seriously. His eyes are still taking me in, sizing me up, and sending tingles across all the places I wish he'd touch. "And what's your name?"
"Scott," he says and shakes the empty cup at me. "And you're welcome. Anytime. I'm just glad you're not dead."
Dead, I hate that word. That word used to be scary, now it's terrifying. Dead is what my mom will be. Her two-month sentence will be done in one week. An image of her laughing face flashes through my mind, as she bought me the bracelet in Rome, and as she listened to me telling her of that boy I was so helplessly in love with back in sixth grade. She doesn't laugh like that anymore. Soon she never will. Because she will be dead.
Scott's eyes narrow and pull together. He bends down and places the cup on the ground. "I should get back to work. Thanks for the coffee. Have a nice day."
"I'd like to thank you properly," I hear myself saying, with no idea where the words are coming from or where they're going. "Do you have time for a proper drink later, after work?"
I've never asked a guy out so pointedly before. Never had the nerve. Not in sixth grade, not at any time since. So, I don't know why I'm doing it now. I must be crazy.
He lifts his eyes up to mine again, stopping just a little too long at my boobs.
My mouth is hanging open, and my eyes must be too wide. I know all this, but can't stop it. I wish I had Kate's easygoing manner with guys, but I don't. And now he'll say no, thinking I'm just a crazy rich chick, and this is the second time I'm making a total fool of myself in front of him.
He gives me a lopsided grin, and locks his eyes on mine. "I'd love to; I really would, but..."
I hate that 'but'. At least he's being nice about it.
I want to wipe the expectant look off my face, but it's
I climb through the hole in the fence, sloshing hot coffee over my bare leg, but at least I don't spill it all over my dress. Kate's high-pitched laugh echoes from the pool, but the hedge from here to the magnolia tree is so thick she shouldn't be able to see me.
The shrubbery hides me from the pool boy too. He's wearing a pair of faded jeans now and no shirt. The sunlight makes his back glisten, and all I really want to do is run my hand down his back, feeling those hard muscles. That desire surprises me. I'm not usually very forward with guys and definitely prefer them to take the lead. He's got one of those electric cutters going, so he doesn't hear me approach.
I clear my throat once I reach him. "Excuse me."
The saw sputters, and the noise dies out. He turns toward me, surprise evident in the way his face hovers between a smile and a frown. I wouldn't mind touching his lips either.
"I thought you might like some coffee," I say, holding one of the cups toward him, sloshing more of it across my arm in the process.
He just stares at me like he can't figure out what I'm doing there.
"Thank you for saving me," I explain, belatedly adding, "or, you know, trying to."
He puts the saw down, wipes sweat off his face with the back of his hand, and finally takes the coffee.
"I put milk and sugar in. I don't know how you like it," I say rather stupidly.
His eyes, the color of a cloudless blue sky now with just a hint of sunlight dip down to the v of my dress. With the push-up I'm wearing, the dress reveals more than it hides.
"Thanks. I like milk and sugar just fine."
His gaze warms me again, heat shooting through my stomach. Somehow, I don't think he's really talking about the milk and sugar.
What I'm feeling must be showing on my face because he chuckles a little and gulps down the coffee.
"Thank you, Miss...?" he says, holding the empty cup toward me.
"Gail," I manage.
"Miss Gail," he says and chuckles again.
"No, just Gail," I explain too seriously. His eyes are still taking me in, sizing me up, and sending tingles across all the places I wish he'd touch. "And what's your name?"
"Scott," he says and shakes the empty cup at me. "And you're welcome. Anytime. I'm just glad you're not dead."
Dead, I hate that word. That word used to be scary, now it's terrifying. Dead is what my mom will be. Her two-month sentence will be done in one week. An image of her laughing face flashes through my mind, as she bought me the bracelet in Rome, and as she listened to me telling her of that boy I was so helplessly in love with back in sixth grade. She doesn't laugh like that anymore. Soon she never will. Because she will be dead.
Scott's eyes narrow and pull together. He bends down and places the cup on the ground. "I should get back to work. Thanks for the coffee. Have a nice day."
"I'd like to thank you properly," I hear myself saying, with no idea where the words are coming from or where they're going. "Do you have time for a proper drink later, after work?"
I've never asked a guy out so pointedly before. Never had the nerve. Not in sixth grade, not at any time since. So, I don't know why I'm doing it now. I must be crazy.
He lifts his eyes up to mine again, stopping just a little too long at my boobs.
My mouth is hanging open, and my eyes must be too wide. I know all this, but can't stop it. I wish I had Kate's easygoing manner with guys, but I don't. And now he'll say no, thinking I'm just a crazy rich chick, and this is the second time I'm making a total fool of myself in front of him.
He gives me a lopsided grin, and locks his eyes on mine. "I'd love to; I really would, but..."
I hate that 'but'. At least he's being nice about it.
I want to wipe the expectant look off my face, but it's
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